Propane Tanks and Crack XD
by ScarlettsFuneral
Summary: Um, the title says it all. It's just a mental piece of Crack from, like, 4 AM. If you care about your sanity, you have been warned, and will not like to see L and Light arguing at 3 AM. :D R&R!


A/N: HAHA! Beyond-Chan and I present more PURE CRACK stories from our minds at four AM! Haha, I don't know about the title. I don't like it. On Word, the title's I'm Not Sure. So we can go with that! XD

For all of you out there who actually worry/care about keeping your mental sanity, please be warned now. I will not be held responsible for your psychoanalysis and psychotherapy bills. :D

L was sitting in bed, typing away on his laptop, when Light groaned.

"L… get off the computer. The light's too bright," he complained to the detective.

L continued typing, not bothering to look at Light. "No, I don't believe I will."

Light responded by sitting up and hitting the raved-haired detective over the head with a pillow.

"Get off the computer. I want to go to bed," Light repeated, enunciating his words with another pillow L's head.

"No," L said again, continuing to type.

"Now I'm bored," Light whined.

"Go find something to do," L, irately, suggested rather helpfully.

"That's it. There's nothing _to_ do," Light continued to whine like a girl.

"I can fix that."

"……………………………..... I'm _still_ bored!"

"I told you I can fix it."

"How?"

L hit Light in the face with a pillow.

"What the hell was that?" Light asked.

"Again, I told you I could fix that."

"Fix what?"

"…Your boredom!"

"…I'm bored?"

"What were you complaining about earlier?"

"Oh, yeah, that's right. I'm bored."

When Light wasn't paying attention in his musings about being bored, L hit him in the head with the pillow again.

"Kfvijknvaidrjf aiofj fvn cl;re ioalwdernfdf" Light spewed utter nonsensical gibberish.

"……………………………............................................ right."

"Jksncvorenjkdvfidjorjk ankldxcjofr jnfdzjiorvalank awioeu fj lskdjf" Light continued, and then he spontaneously combusted.

"Aw, crap. I broke him."

Light waited until L shrugged and returned to his laptop, before jumping up like a ninja and busting the pillow over L's head, causing the feathers to fly everywhere.

"Goddamn it, Light! What did I tell you about letting the chickens play near the propane tanks?" L yelled without turning around from his computer.

"Um, actually, that was Matt and Beyond Birthday," Light told him, just for the heck of it.

"…. Oh. Well, what did I tell you about letting them play with matches near the propane tanks?"

Light was shocked. L actually knew people with those names? "… They didn't have matches. In retrospect, they threw Near at one of the tanks, and it exploded."

"… What the hell!"

"Yeah, I don't know. And for the record, you've never told me anything about not letting either chickens nor children near propane tanks."

"Well, I meant to. I just got a little too preoccupied with blaming you for being Kira. Speaking of which, I haven't called you Kira in the past ten minutes, isn't that right, Kira-Kun?" L said.

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THAT I'M NOT KIRA!" Light screamed.

"Well, how many times have you so far?"

"5,487,341,972,436,203,891,759,831,564,781,367,865,829," Light said immediately.

"…… Wow. Okay, I have no idea how many times you have to say it. Oh well."

"Bastard."

"Yes, you're correct in stating that I don't have a father," L answered simply.

"… I hate you."

"I hate you, too. Now go collect the children from the propane tanks."

"One, we're chained together. Two, WHY IN HELL DO WE EVEN HAVE PROPANE TANKS? OR CHILDREN AROUND THEM, FOR THAT MATTER?" Light yelled.

"The last two are very good questions. Go ask your therapist tomorrow. And as for the first, I don't care if we're chained together. I'm staying here, and you are going to go out to those propane tanks that I don't even think are out there right now, and get the remains of my successors away from them!"

"THAT WAS A PILLOW EXPLODING, NOT A CHICKEN OR YOUR SUCCESSORS BLOWING THINGS UP WITH NON-EXISTANT PROPANE TANKS!" Light screamed at L, who managed, somehow, to yell back in perfect monotone.

"IS IT _**MY**_FAULT THAT WE DON'T HAVE CHILDREN PLAYING NEAR THE PROPANE TANKS? NO! SO GO FIND SOME CHILDREN, GIVE THEM SOME MATCHES, AND PUT THEM BY THE PROPANE TANKS OUT BACK SO THAT WE BLEND IN WITH THE REST OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD!"

"So, how, exactly, is it that when we fit in with the neighbors, we have non-existent kids blowing themselves and each other up out back?" Light asked, a little confused.

"You know, I'm not sure. I blame the economy. Anyway…"

"The _economy?_ Really?"

"Yes. It's to blame for the llamas taking over the petting zoos."

"……….. What?"

"Long story. Anyway, I hate the economy. And America's economy is going down the drain, also. And I heard about this one country, you know, that one? Yeah. It's having some issues, too."

"…….. Right."

"Okay then, what were we talking about?" L asked.

"… Exploding pillows," Light answered after a moment of thought.

"Ah, yes. Now _that, _right there, is a semi- awkward conversation starter. So it was not a chicken in the propane tanks?"

"No."

"Good. I do not feel like cleaning up feathers. Actually, I would just have Watari pick them up, but I don't feel like having to get up and call him."

"Well _that _makes you sound lazy."

"Light, it's five-thirty AM. Even if I might be an insomniac, I still get tired and slash or lazy after being awake for the past thirty-two hours," L reminded him. "Not everyone is lucky enough to get the 'recommended' number of hours of sleep every night. I mean, that's such a lie. You don't need eight to twelve hours of sleep every night for your brain to function properly. The world's three greatest detectives all work impeccably with a total of only ten hours of sleep a week."

"Not everyone is an insomniac, may I remind you."

"…Touché."

"Really. You seem to think that I'm an insomniac, too. I'm a normal person that needs sleep! Preferably the eight to twelve hours that is recommended."

"If you need to listen to the pie charts to know when to go to bed, your brain is a fail."

"Shut up! I love my pie charts…" Light hugged his pie chart, petting it like a cat. L looked at him with a disturbed expression on his face until the pie chart exploded, and Light burst out in tears.

"Light, you're crying over a pie chart. There is something wrong with you," L told him, eating a piece of cake.

"What's a pie chart?" Light asked, in all seriousness.

"What the hell?"

"I don't know. And why doesn't anyone ever say "what the Nothingness?" there is no heaven or hell, according to Ryuk," Light thought out loud.

"Who's Ryuk?" L asked, suspicious.

"Um," Light realized that he slipped. "Uh, this… this pen!" Light held up a pen from his pocket protector.

"Really, Light? You have a pocket protector? On your pajama shirt, no less? And you talk to your pens?" 

"…. Yes."

"Okay, I give up on trying to figure out how your mind works. Go to bed." L said, concerned for Light's mental sanity, which was apparently decreasing at a rapid pace.

"Okay," Light said happily. He fell asleep in about two minutes after he got to lie down. And he kept sleeping until… _Beep! Beep! Beep! _the alarm clock went off three minutes after he had fallen asleep.

"Dammit…." Light muttered, throwing the alarm clock across the room.

"Come along," L said cheerily, leading Light back to work.

A/N: LOL that was retarded. I really don't know what happened with that. TELL ME IF IT SHOULD BE A ONESHOT, OR IF IT SHOULD CONTINUE! XD Anyway, review or you _will_ be thrown at a non-existent propane tank :D


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